


You Give Me Something I Need

by thedisgruntledone



Series: Unfair Exchange [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Grinding, M/M, very minor Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:14:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisgruntledone/pseuds/thedisgruntledone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Will can't get the FBI's newest serial killer out of his head, he uses Lecter to ground him. This is probably not the brightest idea he's ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Give Me Something I Need

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really nervous about this one, mostly because I started somewhere in the middle and then just sort of...wrote outwards, so I'm not sure it gels. I'll do better on the next one (because I think there might be a next one)!
> 
> Also, thank you so much to everyone who commented and kudosed the last one. It means a lot that you bother. :)

Part of what made it so awful was that at first, Will was relieved. He’d thought to himself that for once the murder wasn’t twisted and gory, for once the body hadn’t been displayed in some bloody tableau. In fact, the body was almost peaceful. Dressed in all white, the victim had been laid out on his side in a bed of grass and flowers, hands up and head bent as if in prayer, his dark hair crowned with a wreath of white rosebuds. His face was peaceful and relaxed, his eyes were shut. He could almost have been asleep, if not for the lack of breathing. It was a relief, but Will pushed the feeling aside in horror, because he was at a crime scene, and the death – the _murder_ – of a twelve year old boy was not to be thought of as a break, no matter how peaceful he looked.

“What can you give us, Will?” Jack asked from beside him, the words a thinly disguised demand for him to get his act together and give him something. Will sighed, thought briefly of the days when Jack would at least pretend to leave the crime scene so that he could work, and closed his eyes. Jack disappeared, as did the assorted FBI agents and police officers loitering about the crime scene, either waiting to be able to do their jobs or hanging around to watch the freak work. Time slid backwards. The flowers left the boy’s hair and the white clothes became ragged jeans and t-shirt, the bare feet sprouted socks and old ratty sneakers. His eyes opened, and they were miserable.

_I’ve been watching him for a while. I know his schedule, I know where he goes after school and on the weekends when he’s not wanted at home, which is always. Approaching him is difficult, but I’m willing to work at it. It’s not hard to pretend to be interested in video games, in the latest horror movie. Soon enough he’s smiling when he sees me, happy to have an adult that cares. And I do care. I will show him how. This is my design._

_I drug a root beer float, and when he starts to feel woozy it’s easy to walk him to my car, to take him someplace else. No one watches out for these children, these poor, unloved children. I will have to be the one. The one to save them. All of them._

_The drugs in his system will keep him drowsy should he wake, unable to run away. I think of the other, more potent drugs that I have with me, but it is not time. First, he must be prepared._

_I wash him while he sleeps, making him clean. I clothe him all in white, and brush his hair until shines. It will look lovely wreathed in white. He is perfect. He will be perfect forever, now, and I love him._

Will could feel the love, fierce and all consuming, and he ripped his way out of the scene with a strangled, “No.” The boy’s eyes were open, staring at him. He backed away quickly, knocking into Jack, who said his name, concerned. He could not reply. His eyes were glued to the boy’s. The killer was still there, wanting to get back in his head and relive the moment, and without warning his stomach lurched and he was leaning over, emptying the contents of his stomach into the grass. Jack made a startled noise and reached for him, and Will flinched away. He couldn’t be touched. He wasn’t completely himself, was locked in a battle with a personality not his own, and if he let his focus waver for one moment to deal with anything else, even a comforting gesture from a friend, he might lose.

Jack’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. “Will, what is it?” he barked. Will managed a brief glance up at him, shook his head. That other voice was at the edge of his mind, wanting back in, wanting to share his joy and satisfaction with what he had done. Will couldn’t let him back in, couldn’t deal with those feelings.

He fought for long minutes, ignoring Jack’s rising volume as he repeated his question, and finally the mind retreated long enough for him to form the words he needed with his mind and push them out of his mouth.

“He’s done this before.”

Jack nodded shortly. “This is the fifth. Different ages and races, different genders and backgrounds, all dressed in white, all crowned in roses. We can’t catch him – no one ever sees these kids with him. They just disappear.”

“No one would see. These kids, they don’t have anyone who will pay attention. That’s what draws him to them. They won’t just come from orphanages either – it could be any kid that he perceives as neglected. The roses – they’re from a garden, but probably not his own. An older woman, perhaps a mother or aunt. She gives them to him because he bought her the seeds, it’s her way of being grateful. He…he wants to keep these kids pure, because he wasn’t. He kills them as gently as he can – drugs them so it feels like they’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to hurt them.”

The words died. Will felt sweat running down the back of his neck and pooling at the collar of his shirt. His hair was damp and his mouth tasted disgusting. He focused on these things, curled his hands into tight fists and let his nails bite into his palms to ground him.

Jack studied him. “Anything else?” he asked, his face and voice colored with disappointment. Will hadn’t given them much that they hadn’t already known. He had failed to perform as he was supposed to. He shook his head, refused to look back at the body.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t look anymore. Not at this one.”

A hard exhale. “Right. Can I call someone for you? I can probably get Dr. Bloom to-“

“Alana?” Will blinked at him in confusion. “Why would you call Alana? Lecter is my doctor, Jack.”

Jack gave him a flat look. “You want me to call Dr. Lecter.”

Will bared his teeth in a facsimile of a grin. “Might be best, if you think you need to call someone. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to come collect your errant empath.”

Jack pulled his phone out without a reply. Will allowed his words to wash over him without comprehending them, and ground his teeth, doing his best to keep his mind blank as he waited for his doctor to come retrieve him.

Lecter made it to the crime scene faster than even Will would have given him credit for. Will watched as Jack pulled him aside and they had a hushed conversation, thinking dimly that it was just like the old days. His palms were bleeding where his nails had cut into them, and he had started to worry at his lip with his teeth, pulling and tugging at it until it hurt. Anything to ground himself against the presence at the back of his mind.

Finally, Lecter crouched in front of him. He reached out and gently took Will’s abused hands in his own, peeling his fingers back and staring pensively at the crescent shaped marks on his palms. “Good afternoon, Will. It is three-fifteen p.m. and you are in Baltimore, Maryland. I am here to take you home. May I help you up?”

Wordlessly Will nodded, and Lecter stood, using his grip on Will’s hands to pull him up as well. He placed a hand on the small of his back and pushed him towards his Bentley, nodding at a worried Jack as they walked by. Will managed to offer Jack a small twitch of his mouth as well trying to reassure him that he would be okay, that he wasn’t falling apart again. It felt like a lie. He wanted to pull away from Lecter’s hand, but it grounded him, made the other voice retreat, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Lecter got him in the car, and humiliatingly reached to buckle Will into the seat. Will grabbed his wrist.

“I don’t think that it’s such a good idea if I go home,” he half whispered, and Lecter nodded. Will let go and Lecter shut his door, walked around the car and got in. He drove them back to his place in silence, for which Will was grateful. He was working himself up to what he knew he had to ask for next, though the very thought of doing so made bile rise in his throat.

When they reached Lecter’s home he pushed Will into a bathroom, gave him some mouthwash to get rid of the awful taste from being sick and left him to splash some cold water on his heated face and try to cool down as best he could. When he felt that he had some of his control back Will stepped out of the bathroom and found Lecter in his sitting room, waiting for him.

Will stopped at the entrance to the room and took a deep breath. “Thank you. For coming.”

“Of course. Perhaps we are no longer friends, but you are my patient, and I care for your well-being.”

“You ground me. I didn’t…I thought that wouldn’t be the case. Anymore.”

Lecter inclined his head. “Perhaps your subconscious is aware that I wish you no harm, even if you refuse to believe it.”

“Maybe,” Will conceded, even though he didn’t really believe it. “At any rate, it works, and that is what matters. I was thinking. Maybe it would help me keep this guy out of my head if you…kept grounding me. Upstairs.”

Lecter’s eyebrow raised. “Have you finally come to accept that this is helping you? Is this an expression of trust?”

“No. But I can’t…I need…”  Will fumbled the words, unwilling to say them even as he crumbled. For once Lecter didn’t force him to. He simply nodded, and once again placing a gentle hand at Will’s back guided him up the stairs to his room.

Will tried to strip as he’d done many times before, but his fingers were shaking so badly he couldn’t manage it. Lecter pushed his hands out of the way and took over, undoing each button calmly and precisely, sliding the shirt off of Will’s shoulders and letting it pool on the floor. He grasped the edges of his undershirt and nudged Will lightly. Will put up his arms.

_He tries to get away, when I pull him close; pushes against me and lets out defiant little cries. The drug is already working however and his struggles are weak, ineffectual. I am glad. I could subdue him but I don’t want to hurt him – don’t want his last moments to be filled with pain. I know what it is he fears, what the world has taught him to fear, and it fills me with revolted anger. I would never do what he imagines I must want to. Never. I only want to ease him into slumber – to make his dreams sweet as he fades from a world that would only sully him._

Will yanked himself out of his own thoughts with a cry and lurched into Lecter, crashing their mouths together and clawing at the front of his suit, trying to get it off him but mostly succeeding in wrinkling it. He couldn’t be in this killer’s head any longer – it made him feel dirty in a way even his sessions with Lecter had never done. He needed to find a way out of his head.

Lecter opened his mouth, let Will attack him with teeth and tongue until the initial frenzy had passed, then pulled back, reaching up to cradle Will’s face in his hands.

“I am going to help you, Will, but you must try to be calm. You mustn’t allow this killer inside your head – mustn’t allow him the access you gave Garrett Jacob Hobbs. Can you keep him out for just a bit longer?”

Will nodded, gave a strained smile. Lecter smiled back. He let go of Will’s face and took hold of his hands, pulled them away from his clothing and used his grip to give him a gentle push towards the bed. Will stepped out of his pants (and when had Lecter gotten them unbuttoned and down his legs?) and stumbled towards the bed, focused so entirely on keeping his mind completely his own that he didn’t realize he’d reached his goal until his legs ran into it. He let himself fall forward in an ungraceful flop, grateful to have something besides his legs taking his weight. He laid face down on the duvet, buried his face in one of the pillows and inhaled deeply, forcing his mind to think only of the scents he was picking up from the pillow case. Aftershave, soap, and some sort of musk that was uniquely Lecter. He figured he would hate himself later for finding it comforting, but at that moment he was just relieved. He was safe here. Lecter would keep him from getting too close.

There was a soft touch to his back, and Will turned, instinctively sitting up to keep from being too vulnerable. Lecter regarded him steadily. Will would never admit it, but meeting those calm eyes and holding their gaze helped push the other voice in his head back even farther.

“I am going to need you to lie back down, please.” Will did, saw Lecter’s eyes brighten at his obedience. Wanted to hate it, but couldn’t get there past the struggle to stay himself within the confines of his own mind. Instead he complied with Lecter’s next instruction before it had even been uttered, and raised his hands above his head.

Lecter took a sharp breath. “Very good, Will,” he purred, obviously pleased, and something in Will lit up at the praise, made him want to be even better for Lecter. Spread himself wide and let him _take_ , until there was nothing left. The other voice receded even more.

Quick work was made of tying his hands. He couldn’t see exactly what he was secured to, but he thought it might be the rails of the bed, if the ties were long enough. Will licked his lips, the motion of his tongue drawing Lecter’s eyes. He swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry throat, and croaked out, “Legs, too?”

Lecter nodded, obviously delighted. Will’s stomach dropped, but not in fear. He hesitated slightly, then spread his thighs, positioning his legs as best he could on either side of the bed. He watched as the other man bent over first one leg and then the other, and was suddenly so turned on he could barely breathe. He _liked_ it, being tied down. Being forced to do nothing but take whatever the other man was going to do to him.

The realization brought the panic he’d almost shoved down rearing back to the surface, and with it, the new killer that wanted nothing more than to take up residence in Will’s head. _He will be pure and beautiful forever, thanks to my efforts. I leave him to be found because I want the world to see him for the true innocent he is. I want them all to see that innocence preserved, to know that they couldn’t defile him with their filth. His soul will never be stained by the grubby fingers of those that would ruin him. This is my design._

Dimly, he heard a voice calling a name, _Will, William, William Graham_ , but that name was no longer his and so he ignored it, thought instead of the children he was still planning on saving, poor children who did not have the benefit of a loving adult to keep them from being spoiled. There were so many, but he would save all of them. He had to. It was his des-

Pleasure. There was pleasure, and he didn’t like it. This wasn’t about that – these children were to be left _unsullied_. He could only complete the work if he felt nothing but pure affection for them; it couldn’t be _tainted_ by unclean thoughts or feelings. He frowned, waved his hand to bat away the foreign feeling, and felt the tie tug at his wrist.

Just like that Will was back, arching up into the fingers that were doing delicious things to him, gasping. Lecter was pressed full length against his body, also naked, slowly grinding into his thigh as the hand not trapped underneath him moved over Will, one minute lightly stroking him and the next reaching up to twist a nipple or smooth over his neck and face, all the while murmuring words he could barely understand into his ear. Will heard his name, forced his heavy tongue to work, to make sounds.

“…back. I’m back, I’m here.”

Lecter pulled back slightly and looked at him. Concern was written all over his face but his eyes stayed blank and unreadable. “I can see that. Please do me the courtesy of remaining so.” He let go of Will completely, rolled on top of him so that they were aligned from chest to groan, and began to thrust firmly.

Will gasped, thrust up as best he could with his arms and legs bound, trying to get more friction. The killer at the edges of his mind retreated once again, disgusted by the pleasure Will was feeling. The withdrawal of the poisonous other from his mind only spurred him to rut harder against Lecter, straining against the ties binding him to the bed as the other man pulled away.

Lecter smiled at him fondly. For once, the smile reached his eyes, and Will stared, almost despite himself. He’d never seen real emotion in those eyes before, and now that he had he couldn’t look away for fear it would go away. Suddenly all he wanted was to touch the other man, to run his hands all over him and make him lose control the way Will always did. The thought scared him, not only because he had never touched another man in such a way but because it was _his_ thought, the New Will – the part of him that was attached to the doctor was still buried beneath several layers of denial and fury. No, that impulsive need to put his hands on Lecter - that yearning to cause pleasure rather than pain - belonged to the part of himself that would just as soon strangle the man as look at him. He still wanted to strangle him, but first he wanted to _ruin_ him, to take apart that cool exterior and turn him into the writhing, broken mess just as he always did to Will.

The realization should be terrifying, Will knew, and it would be later, when he was fully himself again and no longer needed Lecter’s touch to keep him grounded. He felt the panic already in the back of his mind, just waiting for the right time to strike, but for the moment it could be ignored.

“Will,” Lecter said, perhaps fearing that he had gone away again. Will smiled.

“Untie me.”

Lecter blinked. If he hadn’t been so intent on getting free, Will would have appreciated being able to genuinely surprise the man. Instead he tugged on his bindings and repeated the demand – he would not have an argument.

His tone did not go unnoticed by Lecter. His eyes narrowed with challenge. “I do not believe that would be best for you.”

“I do.” Will stopped trying to free himself and met Lecter’s gaze squarely, allowed him to see the desire that was coursing through him. “You said that this was about what I needed, not what you wanted. Right now I need you to let me go.”

Lecter hesitated, but then his curiosity got the better of him, as Will had known it would. He reached for the ties at Will’s ankles and began to undo them.

He was taking too long. Will’s fierce want was ebbing, leaving room for the killer to take its place. “Hurry,” he begged, voice strained.  Lecter’s eyes flicked to him briefly but his movement quickened, and Will shortly found himself completely free.

As soon as his hands were unbound, Will pounced. He threw himself at Lecter, tackling him onto the bed and covering him with his body. His hands slid into the other man’s hair, holding his head in place as Will kissed him. He wanted to devour him.

Lecter twitched, made a surprised sound in the back of his throat. Then he went absolutely still for a split second before he arched into Will, opening his mouth and allowing him to take. Hands settled at his waist and squeezed rhythmically, but Lecter made no other move, let Will set the pace.

Somehow the balance had shifted, and Will was in control. The power he felt might be an illusion –he suspected it was - but he didn’t care. He’d been wrong, before, when he’d thought that he’d needed to be pulled apart. It wasn’t restraint he needed but action, taken by his own hands. He needed to feel powerful, needed to be able to take charge, or else he would lose himself in his own mind at the first opportunity. If he could force this new killer’s thoughts out of his head now, it would be easier to access them later without running the risk of getting too close.

It worked. Whoever the man in Will’s head was, he flinched away from the physical pleasure Will experienced as though it burned, and soon was forced to retreat completely, leaving his mind wholly his own once more. Will ground his hips into Lecter’s, satisfied when it forced another small noise out of him. He reached down and plucked the hands from his waist, pushed them up until they met the edge of the mattress. Coaxed the fingers to curl around it. “Keep these here,” he whispered against Lecter’s lips, felt them tilt upward in a smile against his. He did not look at Lecter’s face – did not want to see the amusement mixed with the ever present curiosity. He wanted to pretend that the words had done to him what they’d once done to Will – turned him into a shaking, aroused mess.

He told himself that the body underneath him was trembling with suppressed desire, not mirth, trailed his mouth along Lecter’s neck, sucking and biting as he slid his hands even farther down the man’s body. He had no clue what he was supposed to do. The sense of urgency had faded when he’d finally fully regained his own mind, but he found he still wanted to try to pull Lecter apart. He was just unsure how to go about it.

He sat up, looked at the man below him. His neck was red from Will’s attention, but his breathing was calm, even. He was hard – Will could feel it where it was pressed against him – but aside from that there was no indication that he was anything other than perfectly relaxed. Even his hands were free from tension, fingers loosely curled around the edge of the mattress and kept there, Will was sure, only to humor him. Lecter saw Will’s hesitation, started to smile.

Furious, Will darted forward, finding a particularly livid mark on Lecter’s neck and sealing his mouth to it, sucking hard. Lecter inhaled sharply and titled his head to give Will better access. Will shifted until their hips were aligned, their erections slotted against each other. Still sucking on that same spot on Lecter’s neck, he squirmed a hand down between their bodies and wrapped it around them both as best he could. He stroked lightly, and was rewarded when Lecter’s hips twitched upwards slightly. Will grinned around his mouthful of flesh and then bit down, hard, felt it give beneath his teeth as Lecter gasped audibly. His breathing sped up and his hips bucked sharply once, twice, before he managed to pull them under control again. Will pulled his head back to look at what he’d done and noticed that Lecter’s hands were now gripping the mattress, squeezing and releasing the same way he’d done to Will’s waist. The sight caused his arousal to spike sharply, and Will had tightened his grip and started rocking down faster before he was quite aware of it.

When he realized what he was doing, Will forced himself to slow down, to loosen his hold once again and keep his thrusts shallow. He wasn’t ready for this to be over, not yet. He wanted to pull more sounds out of Lecter, wanted to see the other man break. He opened eyes that he hadn’t even known had closed, and his gaze caught once again on Lecter’s neck. He’d broken the skin; a thin trickle of blood ran from the wound. A sudden idea hit him, and before he could think about what he was doing Will leaned forward, tongue reaching out to lap up the blood.

Will wasn’t particularly enthralled by the idea of blood play, but he’d thought that Lecter might feel differently, and was proven right when the man honest to goodness _growled_. Will barely had time to savor his victory before he found himself being tumbled over and onto his back, the other man switching their positions with terrifying ease. Quicker than thought he’d gathered Will’s wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head, aligning their hips and grinding their erections together in a punishing rhythm that had Will’s head spinning.

Much later, when he had returned home and had created some distance from what had happened, when the mind of the new killer stayed away but shame took his place, Will would go over what had transpired and feel triumph as he realized that he may not have broken Lecter’s control, but he’d certainly cracked it. He would take comfort in the small victory he’d achieved by forcing Lecter into action, making him give in however briefly to baser instincts. Later. In the moment, Will could only lose himself once again. He wrapped his legs around Lecter’s hips, urging him to move faster, harder against him as he strained against the hand pinning his own. His head tossed from side to side as he felt his body start to fly, felt the pleasure start to coalesce at the base of his spine, ready to explode outward, and Lecter reached out with his free hand to grasp his chin, forcing Will to meet his gaze.

Will held the stare as his vision narrowed, and as his orgasm crashed over him all he could see was Lecter.

After, Lecter cleaned them both up and slid back on the bed behind Will. He stroked one hand along his side and the other along his belly, and asked in a steady voice what had caused Will to lose himself so easily.

Will fidgeted. Wanted to pull away from those hands but wanted them touching him at the same time. Comfort won out and he settled with a small sigh.

“He loved him. The boy, Jason Abrams. Thinks he’s…saved him somehow, kept him from defilement. He wanted to preserve that boy’s innocence. He thinks he _helped_ him, thinks he’ll be helping the others.” Because there would be more. There were so many children that needed saving, so many unloved, unseen innocents waiting to be preserved by his hands. Will shivered. They needed to find this one, and soon. Before he killed again. He would not stop until they did.

“So it is like Garret Jacob Hobbs. He kills because he loves, and that love makes it hard for you to keep him at a distance.”

“I-I get inside their _head_ _s_ , I don’t want to empathize with their _hearts_ , too.”

“It is easier for you to look when love is not involved. You began to see Garret Jacob Hobbs as an extension of yourself because of his love for Abigail, because that love extended to his victims. This killer was able to invade your mind because he felt he loved the child whose life he took. Tell me, Will, did it make it harder for you when you believed I was the Chesapeake Ripper? Or easier? To know that I too am capable of love.”

Will smiled wearily. “You _are_ the Chesapeake Ripper. Just because you have everyone else believing it was Chilton doesn’t mean you’ve fooled me.” He debated leaving the question unanswered, knew that he should. “And you don’t love. You sometimes feel fondness, I think, for certain people, but that won’t stop you killing them if they get in your way. You’d kill me right now if you thought I was any real danger to you.”

Lecter lips pressed against the back of his neck in a soft kiss as he pulled him closer. “My dear Will. I do enjoy you. Your presence makes the world a far more interesting place.”

Will closed his eyes against the sudden sting of tears, forced a laugh. “I’ll go ahead and assume that means I’m safe for the moment, then.” He did not open his eyes – did not want to see the arms that held him turned thin and black, the soothing fingers running along his body become stick-like and grasping. Instead he pressed his back into the body behind him and pretended that the care he was being shown was real for just a little longer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think.


End file.
